I didn't cry or anything.
I hadn't talked to him in years.
But I couldn't shake the question:
Could I have prevented it?

I had thought to contact him,
show him someone cared.
He had always been insecure,
always had a spot in my heart.

But I brushed the thought aside
like a stray hair across my face.
And yet, I still can't help thinking
that *I could have changed things.